Hello there!

I'm not new to this site. I have published P&P fan fictions here. I just decided on doing some... uhm... smut and I wanted to post in anonymously on this profile.

more chapters coming, all tasteful. it's rated M for a reason, friends! don't read it if sex stuff offends you.

EDIT: a dear reviewer mentioned an incorrect word. Thank you, Debu. It's now corrected.

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There were few times in Elizabeth Darcy's life when she had been as nervous as that moment.

"My wedding night," she whispered to herself. Her maid, standing right behind her while plaiting her hair, said, "Pardon, ma'am? I didn't hear you correctly."

Elizabeth smiled anxiously at the young girl, "'Tis nothing, I was just speaking to myself." The girl, Emily, as Mrs Reynolds had introduced her, didn't look a day over seventeen. There was no chance of her being married at this young an age, was it? Elizabeth sighed, suddenly wishing she had her beloved aunt Gardiner by herself, for she would have been a great source of comfort.

'I must remember the words she said to me before the wedding.' she thought and took a deep breath, almost hearing Mrs Gardiner's voice as she thought of her their conversation back at Longbourn, "Be not alarmed, Lizzy. Mr Darcy is a loving man and adores and respects you beyond measure. Have no fear from him. Let your husband be your guide."

Those words had soothed her anxiety for a while, but their comforting effect had vanished as soon as she had seen Mr Darcy at the aisle. He had been most handsome in his very dark blue coat, patiently and somewhat shyly waiting for her to join him. But she, and only she, saw the fire in his eyes as soon as they had locked with hers.

Emily's gentle tone dragged her from out of her daydreams, "Can I be of anymore services, ma'am?"

"No, thank you Emily. You have been most helpful. You may leave." Elizabeth watched the reflection of the door closing in the mirror and took another deep breath. The beautiful golden clock on the wall declared that it was already eight in the afternoon. Her husband had awkwardly stated that he would come to her at half past eight.

She stood and looked at her reflection in the mirror. She was wearing the nightshift her aunt had given to her as a wedding gift. It wasn't completely transparent, but one could easily decipher the swell of her breasts and the lines of her thighs where the dress clung to her body. Her hands went up to touch the lovely lace on the neckline, she could feel her skin tingle when her hand brushed against her collar bone.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She waited for the person to enter, but as there were no movements, she softly called, "Come in."

As expected, her beloved husband walked in. he closed the door slowly and bowed formally, "Mrs Darcy."

Elizabeth raised an eyebrow. They were now husband and wife, there was no need to bow and curtsy to each other. Perhaps her husband wasn't still over the fact that they weren't engaged anymore.

"Mr Darcy."

He cleared his throat awkwardly, "I trust you had an enjoyable afternoon?"

"Indeed, sir."

Their eyes locked, Elizabeth raised her eyebrows in amusement, a teasing glint in her dark eyes.

Then, they laughed. Loudly together. Elizabeth was pleasantly surprised at how much it calmed her.

When he was slightly out of breath, he cleared his throat again, "To say that this isn't what I expected, would be a statement." He then cut off and walked to her with two long steps. He grabbed both her delicate hands with his large ones, his eyes searching hers, "Elizabeth, I know you must feel distressed, but I want to assure you that I'll do everything in my power to make you comfortable. I dislike nothing more than seeing you unhappy."

Elizabeth smiled softly and squeezed his hands, "I know, and I love you for it."

His eyes shone with happiness and love, "Then, shall we?"

She nodded her assent and was surprised when he walked away from her and to the window.

He drew the curtains, letting the very blue moonlight bathe the room. He then put out all the candles and the fire, leaving nothing but the said blue light in the room.

While he was doing all this, she found the opportunity to examine his attire. He was wearing a dark blue robe over his knee-length nightdress, and she blushed when she caught a glimpse of his well-toned calves as he leaned toward the window.

When her was done, he walked to her again, this time bringing both her hands to his lips, kissing each knuckle lovingly. Elizabeth's breath caught in her throat. She was sure he could hear the loud beating of her heart.

He finally led her to the four-poster bed. It was the biggest piece of furniture Elizabeth had ever laid eyes upon. six adults could lie on it comfortably.

She sat on the soft mattress - feeling very petite beside all those pillows and cushions - and watched him go to the corner of the room and return with two small glasses filled with red wine. He offered her one glass and she accepted, letting the rich taste of the drink savour her mouth. She could feel his eyes on her as she drank.

Both glasses were soon put aside. Elizabeth lay on the bed as Darcy also positioned himself beside her. He leaned down, gazed at her eyes with his ocean blue ones and finally touched her lips with his own.

Elizabeth had been kissed by him before, during their engagement and after the wedding, on the way to their house in London. But none of those chaste kissed with the fear of being caught by someone were anything compared to this. She could feel the warmth of his lips on his own and could easily detect the slight taste of red wine on him. When he pulled back and gazed at her eyes with so much emotion in his look, Elizabeth felt her breath hitch.

He leaned again, this time peppering soft kisses on her jaw. Then downwards, on her neck. Then up again, behind her ear. When she felt his teeth nipping at her collar bone, she moaned.

Frozen, she felt ashamed of herself. What would her husband think of her, moaning and sighing and behaving like a complete wanton?

His reaction surprised her; he immediately pulled back at her voice, and stared at her with a mixture of amusement and love, his iconic dashing smile on his lips.

He has liked it. He wanted her to moan.

And she was more than happy to satisfy him.

He slowly went further down. His shower of feather-like kissed never stopping. When he reached her bosom, which was covered by her night shift, he gently asked, "May I?"

She swallowed heavily but nodded anyways. She then felt his hands gently pulling down her neckline, until her breasts were exposed.

'Is he disappointed?' She always knew she had small breasts compared to most ladies, but she never had feared of disappointing her lover with them.

But he gasped. For a moment, he couldn't take his eyes off her, "My darling Elizabeth!" he said as he leaned in.

Elizabeth reacted with a groan as soon as his lips and tongue came in contact with her flesh. Darcy suckled both her nipples and placed hot kissed between them, which earned yet another moan from her.

He went up and kissed her lips again, this time more passionately. His hands went down and he removed the last article of clothing from her slim body.

He couldn't believe the sight in front of him: his darling anger, fully naked and in her glory, lay before him, a sheen of blue moonlight covering the side of her body. It was perfect. She was perfect.

"Oh Elizabeth… I have had imagined this time in my head, over and over. I never expected it to be this glorious."

Elizabeth blushed, but she was feeling proud. He loved her. He loved her body. He wanted her. She felt her courage rising, and she knew not to blame her husband or the wine, "sir, it's not fair to keep me without covering, when you are as much as dressed as when you first entered the room." She said mischievously.

He chuckled wolfishly, "I believe that can be arranged, my darling." He said as he pulled back and removed his robe. He then covered them both with a sheet, up to their waist. He then pulled off his nightdress and tossed it aside.

Elizabeth didn't know much about male bodies. All her acknowledge came from a visit to London's museum, where she had seen many sculptures of naked men covering the private parts of their body. But even she could tell that her husband's body was flawless. Her eyes went from his muscled arms and chest to the hard lines on his stomach. The rest disappeared under the blanket. She lifted her arms and sighed as her soft skin came in contact with the hard muscled on his shoulders, "This body…" she watched her fingers vanish into his hair, "Is the most beautiful sight I have ever looked upon." then she felt embarrassed, so she playfully added, "Other than your face, sir, Of course."

He chuckled, sending a shiver down her spine, "My darling Lizzy, it is an honour to know that you like my body as much as I adore yours. I sincerely hope you never grow tired of it."

She blushed and absentmindedly, played with the hair on his chest.

"Elizabeth, my love, look at me. Please." He said and she did.

"You are an intelligent and well-informed woman. I know you already have some information about what is about to happen." She nodded, "I want to make you ready for it. Just relax and take deep breaths."

She nodded again and did so. He smiled to calm her and moved his hand down, still looking at her in the eyes. She gasped when she felt him touch here, there!

It was alien, yet magical. Much better than the kisses on her chest and neck. In one sudden movement, he buried a finger inside her. Elizabeth cried, half pleasure, half pain. He rushed to sooth her pain, "Hush, my little one. Bear the pain tonight, and I promise I'll bring you the highest of pleasures." He kissed her forehead.

She nodded against his neck, "Keep going."

She then felt him shift under the sheets and place himself between her legs. She knew what was about to happen. He was about to take her.

He took her hand in his, fingers entwined. With slow and cautious movements, he entered her and she cried out in pain.

"I am sorry, my love. So, very sorry." He leaned in and placed gentle kisses on the side of her face to sooth her pain.

She was still in very little pain, but the pleasure could not be denied. She choked, "I'm alright now, my love. Please keep going. Make me your wife."

He nodded gravely and gently pulled himself out of her. Then filled her again. Any pain left soon gave its place to sweet pleasure. She pressed her finger nails at his backside, "Keep going, Fitzwilliam!"

He continued in agonizing slow movements, afraid of hurting her. Elizabeth groaned impatiently, "Faster, my love!"

He didn't comply. She groaned in frustration, lifted her legs and wrapped her legs about him. There, she forced him to move. His pounding became more and more urgent, until he was thrusting fast and hard into her, "Elizabeth… ahhh… my darling!"

She squeezed his hand in her own, "Oh lord, Fitzwilliam… don't stop… don't you ever stop!"

He lifted her legs and placed them on his shoulders, not at all stopping his hard thrusting. This new position allowed him to go even deeper into her. He felt her scratching all her backside, urging him to go deeper and deeper. He pounded in her with every fibre of his being until he heard the most beautiful sound he had ever heard in his entire life.

Elizabeth's hand flexed against his own as she tasted the first climax of her life, and screamed.

He felt her insides tighten impossibly against him, and he too with a loud groan collapsed upon her.

he immediately rolled off his wife, wrapped her arms about her and covered them both with a blanket.

"That was…" she panted, not being able to continue.

"Magnificent." He finished for her, his own breath leaving him.

She nodded against his chest and closed her eyes. Both were impossibly spent and exhausted.

"I'm planning on repeating that quite often, my love. You shall grow tired of me." She said softly, barely able to keep her eyelids open.

He smiled and kissed her head, "Not before you tired of me, my love."

She closed her eyes again and smiled, "Never."

...

there you go! did you enjoy it? write and tell me please!